In my brain were stored a thousand pictures.

All higher humor begins with ceasing to take oneself seriously.

Only within yourself exists the other reality for which you long. I can give you nothing that has not already its being within yourself. I can throw open to you no picture gallery but your own soul.

No permanence is ours, we are a wave that flows to fit whatever form it finds.

The river taught us how to listen with a silent heart, with a waiting open soul.

The many-voiced song of the river echoed softly. Siddhartha looked into the river and saw many pictures in the flowing water. The river's voice was sorrowful. It sang with yearning and sadness, flowing towards its goal ... Siddhartha was now listening intently...to this song of a thousand voices ... then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: Om - Perfection ... From that hour Siddhartha ceased to fight against his destiny.

Writing is good, thinking is better. Cleverness is good, patience is better.